After The End
by lyradaemon
Summary: Jaenelle and Daemon are happily married. But when Jaenelle has a strange dream that she can't explain, everything begins to change. Will she ever accept who she truly is? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1: The Dream

**After The End,** _by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 1 - **

**Disclaimer – It all belongs to Anne Bishop, not to me**

Jaenelle sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at the man lying there peacefully. She sighed happily. The few months since she had married Daemon had been the most wonderful, happy times she could remember. The days were filled with fun and laughter, whether they were 'experimenting' in her workroom or irritating a good-natured Saetan in his study with the rest of the family.

And the nights…the nights were filled with fire and passion. Just last night they had gone to bed soon after supper and hadn't fallen asleep until gone midnight when they were sated and exhausted. A blush rose in Jaenelle's cheeks as she remembered the feel of Daemon's hands on her, the way he kissed and touched and made love to her. It made her warm inside just to think of his lips…

She gently brushed away a stray piece of hair which had fallen into his face. "You are so beautiful Daemon," she whispered with a smile. "So, so beautiful."

"Mmm," was her only reply as Daemon snuggled further down under the covers. It still amazed her how innocent and childlike Daemon could be when he slept. Leaning down she planted a soft kiss on his lips, then quietly slipped out the room and made her way downstairs to her adoptive father.

Jaenelle knocked on the door then slipped into the room without waiting for an answer, knowing that Saetan wouldn't mind. She grinned when she saw him sitting behind his desk with a small frown on his handsome face. The source of the frown was sprawled in a chair opposite him, a familiar cocky and arrogant smile playing on his lips. Lucivar.

Saetan looked up as he heard the door close and smiled at Jaenelle with relief. "Is Lucivar being a pain Papa?" She asked.

"Not really," he said with a grin. "He's just being Lucivar first thing in the morning." Jaenelle bent down and kissed his cheek. "Do you think I could talk to you?" She asked. "In private?"

"Well, I can tell when I'm not wanted," Lucivar pouted then grinned. "It's ok; I need to see where that son of mine has escaped to. I can't turn my head without him running off somewhere, then falling asleep, then screaming the house down when he realizes he doesn't know where he is. And Marian will tear my balls off if he does that. See you later," he said, giving Jaenelle as passing kiss on the cheek, before he strode out the room in search of his wayward son.

"So, witch-child, what is it you wanted to tell me?" He queried, gesturing for Jaenelle to draw up one of the squishy armchairs opposite him.

"I had a Dream."

"What about?"

"I'm not quite sure…it wasn't very clear. But I do know that someone or something that I loved was dying. But I couldn't see what it was, or what they were dying from. It scared me," Jaenelle's sapphire eyes took on their familiar haunted look.

"What happened then? Did you weave one of your Webs?" Saetan's golden eyes bore into her intently.

"I woke up, and then began to weave. At first it was just a blur and I couldn't see anything. But then I saw this…this flash…"

"A flash of light?"

"No, that's the worrying thing. It was a flash of darkness. Of Black, I think. It was as if...as if someone had let loose a flash of power – so quick. And full of pain – so much pain, and remorse, and terror. I couldn't tell whose it was though. And then…" She paused and closed her eyes, trying to remember, yet knowing it was painful.

"Then what, Jaenelle?"

"Then death went. Whatever was dying stopped dying and everything…just stopped. I can't explain it," she whispered. "Papa, I have never not been able to understand a Web before – I mean, the meaning may have been unclear, but never like this. Something dying, a flash of darkness mixed with unbearable pain and grief, and then nothing…do you understand it Papa?" She raised her exotic face to that of the High Lord.

"I'm afraid I don't Jaenelle. But…maybe you could ask Daemon. He is a Black Widow after all, and while he hardly ever weaves, he is still one of the best interpreter's of Webs that I have ever met. He is also more in tune with your feelings, both on an emotional and a…physical level," (here Jaenelle blushed as a small smile crept to her lips,) "so might have more of an insight into why you dreamed what you did, and what it all could mean. Is he awake, by the way? I wanted to have a quick word with him about…matters," the last part he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"No, he's still sleeping like a baby. I'll go and wake him though, otherwise he'll miss breakfast. And then he'll be in a mood all day and I had other plans."

"Such as?"

"I need him to help me in my workroom. It's a little project we have going, but I'm not convinced that it's working so well. It'll need a bit of altering, and I want Daemon to do that bit," Jaenelle replied looking thoughtful.

"Can't you tell me?" Saetan pleaded.

"Not yet. You'll see in due course. For now it's still in the early stages, and needs a hell of a lot of work," she grinned at the look on Saetan's face. "I'd better go get Daemon up. Thank you for listening Papa. I'll let you know what Daemon says," she kissed him lightly on the cheek, and then bounded out the room to go find her Consort. Saetan smiled after the daughter of his soul. He'd never seen her as happy as she was when she was with his son. They were good for each other, and it gladdened his heart to see it. But after what Jaenelle has said about her dream, he wasn't too sure that things would stay as peaceful as they were. In fact, he knew things were going to take a turn for the worse.

"Be careful, witch-child," he whispered. "Be very careful."


	2. Chapter 2: Daemon helps

**After the End,** _by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 2 - Daemon helps**

**Disclaimer - I don't own anything**

"Daemon," Jaenelle whispered. "Daemon wake up," she shook him a little; still no answer. So she bent down and kissed his warm lips. Suddenly she felt him kiss her back sleepily and knew he was awake. She tried to pull away to berate him for still being in bed, but Daemon was quicker and, holding her tightly, he rolled over. Jaenelle found herself on her back with a sleepy Daemon smiling down at her, and, finding nothing else to do, pulled his head down to kiss him again. Daemon obliged and soon their hands were roaming freely, his discarding bothersome clothing and hers seeking every inch of his warm skin.

"You can wake me up like that more often," Daemon murmured in-between soft kisses.

"You shouldn't have been in bed," she gasped as his hand found her breast.

"I don't see much complaint," he breathed as he licked her ear, making her shiver; "or resistance for that matter."

"Can you blame me after that cheap, dirty trick?" She whispered as she stroked his back.

"No," he laughed softly into her mouth then brushed his lips along her jaw, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses. "But I don't see why you were out of bed in the first place…it's much more comfortable in here…" His tongue licked her bottom lip.

"You – are – an – evil –man," Jaenelle gasped, then gave up trying to talk at all, since it was getting in the way of his kisses.

"And you are my beautiful wife and are going to stay right here…" he replied, giving her a hot, sinking kiss. After that, any thought went straight out of Jaenelle's head as she gave herself up to Daemon.

Some time afterwards, when they had finally got out of bed and were safely bathed and – after another delay – dressed, Jaenelle and Daemon were sitting together on the balcony of their suite, she curled up in his arms. Neither had said anything for a while; they were quite content just to be with each other like this. But finally Jaenelle broke the silence.

"I had a Dream last night Daemon."

She felt him stiffen, then relax again. "What was it about sweetheart?" He asked, stroking her hair.

So Jaenelle repeated what she had told Saetan, although in more detail. Daemon remained silent the whole time, the only sign that he was listening being the way he tightened his arms around her when she began to tremble as she remembered the pain. Even for several minutes after she finished he said nothing; Jaenelle had to wriggle to remind him she was there.

"I don't begin to understand myself," he said slowly. "It's your Dream and only you can fully understand what it's trying to tell you. But it's definitely a Dream about the future – it's almost as if it's warning you about something that's going to happen. But when or what that is I don't know. And what that flash of Black was…it's completely beyond me. Only three of us have the Black," he finished as an afterthought.

"Only two, Daemon," Jaenelle said softly. "I don't wear it anymore." Daemon was surprised to hear a note of remorse in her voice; Jaenelle had always said that she was relieved not to wear her birthright Jewels anymore and that her extraordinary power lay dormant. Not once had she even hinted that she missed having that vast ocean of strength at her disposal.

"So you think the Black in your Dream refers to me or Saetan?" He asked gently.

"I'm not sure Daemon. But it's certainly possible. And it makes sense. I mean, maybe you or Papa are meant to use your strength to defeat whatever is killing that thing in my Dream," Jaenelle replied hesitantly. Suddenly she brightened and looked directly at Daemon: "But I don't want to think of it now. Who knows, maybe it won't happen? We have plenty of other things to be getting on with instead of trying to decipher incomprehensible dreams."

Daemon smiled in reply and kissed her. "And what did you have in mind, O Lovely Lady?"

"Why don't we…go and sort out that stupid thing for Papa? Maybe we can even progress today," she suggested with a smile.

"Good idea," Daemon replied


	3. Chapter 3: A bit of heavy entertainment

After The End by lyradaemon

Chapter 3: A bit of heavy entertainment

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!

Jaenelle

Jaenelle jumped as she felt that mind brush hers. Kaelas didn't normally feel he needed to communicate with humans, but when he did, he meant business.

You may come in Kaelas Jaenelle replied.

The door to hers and Daemon's apartment opened and the huge Arcerian cat glided in and promptly jumped on the bed. Jaenelle giggled when she remembered Daemon's first reaction to finding the massive cat lying on his bed.

Is everything alright Kaelas? She asked.

I wanted to ask the same of you. Ladvarian said you had a Dream.

He's right, I did.

I spoke to the Arachnian Queen about it.

You did what? Jaenelle was startled to hear that Kaelas had bothered her about it. After all, it was simply a dream; she had them all the time because she was a Black Widow. What did she have to say about it?

She said that you must pay heed to everything. It will come true but you won't realise until it is almost too late. Act quickly, and on your instincts. Do not use your human 'logic' because it will not avail you. Only instincts. Kaelas seemed quite serious about this.

Well…thank you, I suppose…thought I don't really understand what she means…

You have become too human Jaenelle, Kaelas scolded. You are not human. You are Dreams Made Flesh and Witch. And your original Dreamers were not human, he almost sounded as if being human was a sin. The Queen also said that Witch must play to her strengths when Death comes knocking. Buried strengths must be unearthed, even if it goes against the advice of The Seducer. The triangle will understand in the end, but will be no help during.

Jaenelle looked away from the big cat. _Buried strengths must be unearthed… _What strengths? Kaelas, do you understand what the Queen said about buried strengths needing to be unearthed?

Not quite. But you will understand when you need to he replied.

Jaenelle sighed. She should be used to the cryptic ways of the golden spider by now. But something about this warning nagged at her, yet she couldn't quite place it. She gazed out into the dark garden. It was quite late now but she felt wide awake. She turned back to say something to Kaelas but he saw that he was already half-way out the door.

"What in Hell's name are you doing in my room!" She heard a familiar voice yell from the corridor. Half-laughing, half-groaning she ran to the door in time to see a startled Daemon glaring in fear and amazement at Kaelas strolling unconcernedly out of his rooms. Jaenelle had to hold onto the door to stop herself from falling down because she was laughing so hard.

Daemon looked up at the sound of her laughter and glared at her too. "It's not funny Jaenelle. There is a 400 pound lump of feline just ambling out of my room at 11 at night – not a particularly common occurrence, even for around here." Which just made Jaenelle laugh even harder.

Shaking his head, Daemon picked Jaenelle up in his arms and carried her into their rooms, kicking the door closed behind him. "That cat makes me feel funny. I'm convinced he's going to get me alone one of these days, and it's not going to be pleasant."

"Oh, Daemon, you should have seen your face!" Jaenelle gasped, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Why, what's wrong with it?"

"It's just that you always seem so unshakable the whole time, as if nothing in the world could worry you. And then you meet Kaelas coming out of a door and you look like the world is going to cave in!"

Daemon paused, then dumped Jaenelle in a heap on the bed. "Daemon!" Came a muffled shriek from the covers.

"I was worried for your safety," he said in a stiff voice.

"Oh rubbish Daemon, you were scared and you know it. You don't have to be embarrassed – I thought you looked rather sweet actually."

He simply glared at her, but she could see laughter in his golden eyes. "Now come over here and give me a kiss," she ordered with a slight pout and a glint in her eye.

Daemon obliged and soon they found themselves tangled up in the bedsheets with clothes discarded all over the room.

"What was Kaelas doing in here anyway?" Daemon murmured as he kissed her neck.

"He came to tell me that he'd spoken to the Arachnian Queen," she replied with her eyes blissfully closed.

"And?"

"She told me not to listen to Papa," she gasped in reply. Daemon chuckled, a sound which sent shivers through her body.

"She sounds like a very sensible lady," he breathed in her ear, then kissed her soundly all over again.

Meanwhile, Saetan was sitting deep in thought in his study. All day he had been puzzling over the meaning and significance of Jaenelle's Dream, but still could find no answers. A knock on the door woke him from his reverie.

"I thought you'd still be awake," Surreal said as she plonked herself down in a chair.

"I was thinking," he said pointedly.

"And I just interrupted. Oh well."

Saetan sighed inwardly. "Did you want something?"

"Company. Lucivar's gone home and Daemon and Jaenelle are busy with whatever two people in love do at this time of night. Which reminds me; I'm lonely."

"Still haven't found the right man yet Surreal?" Saetan asked slyly.

"Oh shut up. You know that I'm just biding my time, waiting for the man who's got enough balls to try to court me," she smiled back at him. "So, did I interrupt any interesting thinking?"

Saetan explained about the dream. "Hate to sound sensible here, but don't you think you could just be wasting your time? I mean, everyone has dreams, and hardly any of them come true. Maybe Jaenelle's dream is simply that – a dream."

Saetan shook his head. "Jaenelle doesn't Dream for no reason Surreal. Sometimes the dreams are simple to understand, sometimes they're a bit harder. But they have never been this complicated. And Jaenelle has never sounded so unsure and…well, worried about one before. Tersa once told me 'always heed the Dreams of the Dream. She has them for a reason, and you have to work out what the reason is.' I can't just ignore it." He sighed.

Surreal was silent for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. "Well, I'm afraid I'm not much use to you then. I can think of a hundred ways to kill a man, but deciphering dreams? Not my department. I'll let you know if I think of anything though."

"Thank you Surreal. Now, I think it's time you went off to bed. I'm tired, so I'm sure you will be too." Saetan stood up and stretched.

"Good night then Saetan. And don't stay up all night thinking. If Jaenelle and Daemon can't come up with a meaning, then you don't have a hope in Hell."

"Thanks for the support Surreal, I really appreciate it," he said with a grimace. "Good night." Surreal quickly kissed Saetan on the cheek, then disappeared out the room. "Looks like this place is rubbing off on her too," he chuckled. "And that's saying something." With a flick of his hand he put out the fire in the fireplace, and set off up to his own room and his well-earned sleep.

A/N: Well folks, that's chapter 3 done. I would really appreciate it if you could send me a review sometime (HINT: the button is to your bottom left!) Its always nice to know that someone goes to the trouble of reading your stories! Til next time, love lyradaemon


	4. Chapter 4: Winsol

**After The End** _by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 4: Winsol**

**Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! (like I've already said)**

After the little incident with Kaelas nothing much of interest seemed to happen at SaDiablo Hall. Jaenelle didn't speak of her Dream again; in fact, she had more or less forgotten about it because she was so busy at the moment. So busy, in fact, that she had forgotten it was almost Winsol.

"So Jaenelle, have you got anything interesting for Daemon this year?" Surreal asked with a grin.

Jaenelle just looked blankly at her. "Why would I be giving Daemon something interesting?" She asked looking puzzled.

"Because its Winsol," Surreal replied slowly.

"Oh," Jaenelle said. "Oh dear."

"What?"

"I'd forgotten it was Winsol," she said sheepishly.

"Sugar, how you can you _forget_ Winsol?"

Jaenelle bristled at that. "Winsol was never a happy time when I was a child, Surreal. It was the time of year when everyone remembered how different I was from the rest of the family. I was never given a Winsol gift by anyone. So it isn't normally something which is at the top of my 'things to remember' list."

Surreal immediately regretted what she'd said. Saetan had told her once that Jaenelle didn't particularly enjoy the time of Winsol. It was when she was painfully aware of how different she was from the rest of them simply because she was Witch. It was also at this time of year when Rose had died. Jaenelle still planted Witchblood for her in memory.

"I'm sorry Jaenelle; I didn't mean it like that…" Surreal began.

"Don't Surreal. Don't sound sorry for me. I don't need it," Jaenelle said quietly, then walked away.

Daemon looked up as the door opened. "Hello sweetheart, I was wondering where you were," he said as he saw Jaenelle standing in the doorway. When she didn't answer he peered closer. She had been crying. "Jaenelle, darling, what's wrong?" He asked concerned.

She didn't reply, but simply walked over to Daemon and climbed onto his lap and he wrapped his arms around her. She made no sound; she just sat there quietly as he stroked her hair.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? You know you can tell me," Daemon prompted softly.

"Its Winsol and I don't like it," she mumbled into his neck.

"Darling you've always liked Winsol before."

"No I haven't. It's when everyone celebrates Witch. And then they all remember that I'm Witch. And they act differently and treat me as if I'm special."

"But you are special."

"I don't want to be," she whispered.

Daemon sighed. Jaenelle had always been reluctant to accept that she was so different from the rest of them. It hurt her when people acted strangely around her; and at Winsol that happened more frequently.

"Jaenelle, sweet, they act differently because they love and respect you as you're Witch. You can't change who you are."

"Yes you can. I've changed who I am," she whispered in her midnight voice – the voice he hadn't heard in a long time. It made him shiver. She was right though – she had changed who she was.

Daemon could make no reply so he continued to hold her, comforting her with his presence.

"Can we play in the snow?" Jaenelle asked suddenly.

"There is no snow sweetheart." Sometimes Jaenelle's leaps in thought completely confused him.

"I know that. But when it snows, can we have a huge snowball fight? With Papa? Like we did when you stayed in Chaillot with me?"

Daemon laughed at the thought of Saetan having a snowball in his face. "As long as you're the one chucking snow at Saetan. The rest of us don't have the balls; and we want to keep them too."

Jaenelle leant up and kissed him softly on the mouth, then slid her arms around his neck. "I love you Daemon," she murmured as she looked him in the eye. Those sapphire eyes…he could lose himself in them.

"I love you too," he whispered in reply, then kissed her again.

_**Winsol Morning**_

"Jaenelle? Jaenelle, wake up," she heard someone say as they lightly shook her shoulder. She just burrowed further under the blankets. "Jaenelle, it's Winsol. And it's snowing." Let me sleep, she thought grumpily. Then the person slid an arm round her and kissed her softly, persuasively on the lips. Why was Daemon so good at kissing?

She moved closer to him and gave herself up to a thoroughly good kissing. "Morning," she gasped when he finished.

"I thought you intended to sleep all day," Daemon laughed.

"I did. But then you said it was snowing. And the thought of throwing snowballs at Lucivar was just too tempting, so I had to get up," she said with a grin.

"Do you want your present now or later?" Daemon asked, stroking her hair.

"Later. I'll give you mine tonight," she replied calmly. Inwardly, she was terrified. What if he doesn't appreciate the present? She thought. She had had real trouble trying to find something special for Daemon. Then the present practically threw herself at her, and she had decided to give that to him instead.

"Can't wait," he said as he kissed her again. "We should probably get up and have some breakfast now, otherwise the others will wonder where we've got to."

As it turned out, they were practically the first ones there. It seemed that all the other couples had decided to indulge in a bit of festive frivolity and so came in late – and, in more cases than one, blushing madly.

"So," Daemon said as he stood next to his father. "Are you joining in the snowball fight today?"

"What snowball fight?" Saetan asked innocently.

"The one Jaenelle planned."

"I didn't know she had planned one," Saetan replied airily. Daemon merely looked at him.

"I take it that you are coming then. Wear lots of clothes though."

"And when did you take an interest in my welfare?" Saetan asked cocking an eyebrow.

"Quite frankly I don't give a toss about your welfare," Daemon replied calmly. "I just don't want you getting too cold and then wimping out before I've thrown my fare share of snow at you," and with that he glided off laughing to himself.

"Mischievous pup," Saetan muttered as he poured himself another coffee. He was going to need all the help he could get.

An hour later Saetan found himself standing outside up to his knees in fluffy white snow. The last place on earth he wanted to be right now. He looked around and saw Lucivar talking to Marian while trying to stop an over-excited Daemonar from throwing himself head first into a snow drift. Surreal was with Karla, eyeing up a particularly fine Eyrien Warlord, who was doing a very poor job at not looking interested in Surreal.

Then he saw Daemon. He and Jaenelle were standing slightly apart from the rest of them, deep in conversation. Probably discussing battle tactics, he thought miserably. Or placing a bet on how much snow they could dump on him before he ran inside.

Finally they finished whatever they had been talking about, and walked arm in arm to the middle of the group. Jaenelle cleared her throat.

"I'm very glad to see that you all turned out to the first annual SaDiablo Snow Fight," (that doesn't sound too promising, Saetan said to himself.) "There are no rules at all," (Saetan groaned. Wonderful.) "The aim is to be the last person left. You can team up with whoever you want to. You may use Craft if you wish. Any questions?" Everyone shook their heads. "Right. You may begin!" And with that, all hell broke loose.

Snow whizzed through the air so fast that you barely had time to move before a lump of snow smacked into you. People moved so quickly that it was practically impossible to see who had thrown it at you. Saetan had been hit by four snow balls before he had even moved; shaking it out of his eyes, he bent over to pick some up when SMACK! He whirled round in time to see Daemonar grinning cheekily at him, then darting off to attack his father. That did it. Saetan grabbed handfuls of snow and just threw if at the nearest moving target, sometimes missing, sometimes being rewarded with a muffled yelp.

Taking a break in all the action, Saetan looked around to see Daemon and Jaenelle running through the snow – no, _over _it. Several inches over it. Daemon spun gracefully and caught Surreal full in the face with a snowball. "You – you sneaky – bastard!" She yelled, pawing the snow from her face. Daemon just laughed and threw another one. "Oh, I am _so_ going to get you Daemon Sadi!" She snarled, grabbing some snow and chucking it at him. He just calmly stepped aside.

"How are you _doing_ that?" She gasped.

"Craft," he replied with a shrug. "Snowball?"

Meanwhile Jaenelle was having tremendous fun taunting an irate Lucivar. "Got you Lucivar! Oh look – got you again! And again!"

Lucivar was getting more annoyed by the minute. "Would you just – stop – that!" He shouted at her as another missile found its way into his ear.

"Why Lucivar, have you had enough?" Jaenelle asked sweetly. "I know what will make you feel better."

"What?" He growled.

"This!" And she hit him squarely in the jaw.

Saetan was sincerely grateful that those two hadn't decided to get him yet. There would be nothing left of him when they did.

The fight carried on in full swing, with shrieks and shouts filling the air, along with Jaenelle's gleeful laughs and Surreal's muffled threats. Saetan was sitting on a bench, taking a well-earned breather, when he heard a very unwelcome voice in his ear.

"Had enough there father?" Daemon purred.

Saetan whirled round to see Daemon and Jaenelle standing there grinning, both looking unnervingly like cats who have just realised they have a mouse trapped between their paws.

"I was just having a break," Saetan replied as calmly as he could.

Daemon and Jaenelle looked at each other. Maybe he was going to get away with it; maybe they would go and bother Lucivar again…

SMACK! Two big snowballs connected squarely with his shoulders. "What-!" He shouted, but it was too late to run. Daemon and Jaenelle had him trapped and they were going to take their time over it. Saetan just put his arms over his head and took the blows.

There was nothing else he could do.

Some time later they all trudged indoors, covered in snow and bruises but laughing all the same – even Saetan had to grudgingly admit that he had enjoyed it. Until he had met Daemon and Jaenelle that was.

"So, did you enjoy that Papa?" Jaenelle asked, linking her arms with his.

"I suppose so."

"Daemon and I are really good, aren't we Papa?" She asked with a grin.

"I think you were cheating."

Why Papa! You know that Daemon and I would never cheat! What a thing to say!" Jaenelle said, trying to look shocked but failing miserably.

"You two never fail to surprise me," Saetan said despairingly.

_**Later that evening…**_

"Are you ready for you present now Jaenelle?" Daemon called.

Jaenelle popped her head round the door. "Just coming."

She quickly brushed her hair, straightened her dress, then went into the room where Daemon was sitting. She went over and sat down, snuggling up next to him.

"You go first," she said.

"Alright." He used Craft to summon a smallish box wrapped up in silver paper. "Happy Winsol sweetheart."

"Oh Daemon…" she carefully unwrapped the paper, the pulled off the layer of pink tissue paper underneath. Throwing that aside, she slowly opened the simple green box. Inside was the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen. It was made from onyx, as shiny black stone, and was set with stones of each colour of the Jewels. It even included Ebony. And in the middle was a stone identical to that of her own Twilight's Dawn – the same, down to the last swirl.

"Oh Daemon…it is so, so beautiful…" she whispered.

"Put it on. Here, I'll help you…" he carefully lifted it out of the box and fastened it at her neck. "There. You look lovely," he said with a smile.

"Thank you Daemon," she replied and kissed him. "Its so wonderful; thank you." She fingered each stone in turn.

"Well, I suppose it's your turn now," she said, then swallowed hard. While the snowball fight had taken her mind off it, she was now terrified.

"I didn't actually _get_ you anything," she began slowly, looking round the room for inspiration, and failing miserably. "I wanted to get you something really special you see, and I couldn't find anything. But I do have something," here she paused and closed her eyes. Just go for it, she told herself firmly. "Daemon…I'm going to have a baby."

Daemon was silent; she couldn't bring herself to look at him. "You're sure?" He asked finally. His tone sounded strange somehow. She just nodded.

Eventually she looked up into his eyes. She wasn't quite expecting what she saw. They shone with such love and happiness that she was completely overwhelmed. Daemon took that opportunity to sweep her up in his arms and shower kisses on her, telling her how much he loved her and how happy he was.

Finally, when he gave her a chance to breathe, she asked: "So it's a good present?"

"Jaenelle, it's the best present anyone has ever given me. Thank you," and kissed her again.

"Well, I didn't do it completely on my own…" she began, but was stopped by his lips. I think that all worked out rather nicely, she thought happily. This has been the best Winsol I could ever hope for.

**A/N: So. That's chapter 4 done. And the Dream still hasn't come true! The fluffy, happy stuff stops here for the time being (don't worry all you fellow hopeless romantics out there - there will be more, I promise!) Please tell me what you think of this so far. Are any of the characters acting ooc (out of character) at all? I hope you're enjoying it at the moment – it's actually really fun to write. I've already decided who's going to be the dying one from Jaenelle's dream, but I'd be interested to see who you think it should be. You never know, I might just change my mind! Au revoir for now… love Madeleine (aka lyradaemon)**


	5. Chapter 5: Ebony calls

**After the End** _by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 5: Ebony calls**

**Disclaimer: Same as before…**

_So…this chapter might seem a little pointless, but I promise that it does have some significance. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing – especially GreenWarrior, kestrel2106 and KLMeri. Please keep sending in those reviews! (Oh, and please read my other BJT fanfic 'If I didn't have you'!) **By the way, fanfiction doesn't like asterisks, so the psyhic stuff is written in italics. Sorry if its so confusing...**_

Daemon and Jaenelle were in her workroom. They had been in there for almost two hours now and Daemon was getting restless. He was lounging in a chair with his chin in his hand, gazing off into space. Jaenelle was concentrating fiercely on her latest project – whatever that was; she had refused to tell him what she was doing. Finally Daemon broke the silence.

"Jaenelle? Can I ask you something?"

Jaenelle looked up, slightly startled to find that he was still there. "Of course," she replied, looking back at her work. She stared at what she was holding in her hands, then decided to give up on it; she came over to Daemon and climbed into his lap, snuggling up with her head in the crook of his shoulder. She felt safe in those warm, strong arms. So safe.

"What did you want to ask me?" She murmured.

"Jaenelle…do you think I can reach Ebony?"

He felt her tense in his arms and her heart beat wildly against his chest; he just continued to hold her, stroking her back soothingly. "_What?_"

He sighed. "I want to know whether I can reach Ebony – or get close to it."

"Why?"

Here he paused. He did have a reason; it was just so…complex. And strange. "Jaenelle, I know that my Jewels are slightly darker, slightly stronger than the average Black," he began.

Jaenelle chuckled at that. "I wouldn't say that Black was _average_," she said. He ignored that.

"But it's true," he continued. "You know it is; so does Saetan and Lucivar. I _know_ that my power is stronger than the Black; I want to see how much stronger."

Jaenelle didn't say anything for a minute. Finally she sighed heavily. "I trust what you're saying Daemon, yet I don't understand your reason for wanting to do this. But you must promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"_Do not_ force it. If you cannot go further than the Black, please – I beg you by the Darkness – do not push. Otherwise you will break yourself."

"I promise." Jaenelle kissed his neck in acknowledgement.

"So, what do I do?" He asked.

"You do what you normally would, as if you were simply descending to the Red or Black. Sink into the abyss, to the level of the Black, then wait. When you feel ready, slowly sink down below the Black – each Jewel level is like a web; you know that from when…from when you had to stop me, after…after what I did," here she swallowed and paused. Daemon stroked her back, urging her gently to continue. "So, you sink below the Black, below the web that you know, and slowly look below you. The abyss is endless…all you will see is black, and Darkness."

Daemon knew that she hadn't finish. "So do I simply drift down, like I do to the Black?"

"No," she whispered. Why did she sound so afraid? "You must _spiral_."

"Like a maelstrom." Jaenelle nodded.

"My power is not like yours. You sink and drift in the comfort of the abyss to whatever level you want, and then rise out of it. Witch does not – cannot – do that. Witch must spiral. So you must do that too, otherwise you will never leave the Black."

Daemon took it all in. He still could not say why he wanted to do this, but he did know that he needed to do so. It was if he had to prove something, show that he was not like the others…he shook his head to clear the thoughts. Right now he had to concentrate on this.

"What do I do after that?" He asked.

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"It is something only I know. Something only I am _meant_ to know. It is forbidden to speak of what lies in the abyss to anyone," she replied in that haunting midnight voice.

He knew he shouldn't ask, but he had to. "Who forbade you? Lorn?"

At this she looked him straight in the eye. "Not Lorn. Ebony. The Darkness. What I Am."

Daemon shuddered. _What I Am_.

They both remained silent for a minute, then Jaenelle stirred in his arms. "Are you going to do it then?"

"Yes," Daemon replied, then swallowed hard. What was he _doing_? He arranged himself in the chair then felt Jaenelle settle against him. "Comfortable?" He asked.

In reply she licked the pulse just below his ear, making him shiver.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, then dived.

He had done this countless times before. Pausing to gaze into the abyss below him, he considered the task ahead of him. What if it went wrong? What if he couldn't go below the Black? What if he could? And then became trapped? No one could rescue him, and he'd slowly sink further and further down, into the endless abyss where no one could ever reach him. Where no one had ever been. _Except Jaenelle_.

There was so much about her that he didn't know, and could never hope to know. She was Witch after all, and despite not having her full powers, she still retained all the mysteries and unknowns which made up who she was. Saetan had once said that there were many facets of which; not like the difference between Daemon Sadi and the Sadist. Jaenelle was made up of countless different dreams, and each dreamer had been different; Human, Kindred, Male, Female. And Dragon.

Yes, he knew about that. He had spoken to Lorn – and Draca – many times since Jaenelle had risen half-dead from those healing webs. They had been devastated at the taint people throughout history had left on the Blood. So they had dreamed too; dreamed of someone who would save them all from destruction. And on one of those occasions, Lorn had something which, at the time, had seemed so strange. He had said, "And the Darkness dream too. Ebony longed for a saviour. A saviour who would possess the power of its Dreamer, who could harness the essence of its Creator. A saviour made out of the very thing we all come from and one day return to. A saviour made from the Darkness…"

Ebony. The Darkness. _What I Am_.

Daemon shivered as he realised what Jaenelle was. Yes, she was Witch, Dreams Made Flesh. She was the Queen of Ebon Askavi, who ruled the Dark Court. The Daughter of the High Lord's Soul. A bridge between Human and Kindred. His lover. His wife. His soulmate.

Oh yes, she was all of these. But she was more. _So much more_. Why had no one realised before? Why had Jaenelle not said? Daughter of the Darkness. No. _She was the Darkness. Ebony._

Jaenelle was the Darkness. It was that simple. _Witch had many Dreamers_. And the Darkness had been one of them. She belonged to it and it belonged to her. Which was why she could go further into the abyss than any of the Blood before her had been able to; why she could descend to the Ebony and wield that limitless power with her will.

Daemon could only wonder at it all.

Slowly he became aware that he was hovering at the top of the abyss, and looked down to see the White, and below it he could make out the faint glimmer of Yellow. _Better get going_, he thought.

And so he began to descend, slowly at first, and then with more speed. Down through White, through Yellow and Tiger Eye. Past Rose, Summer-sky, Purple Dusk. Opal and Green and Sapphire raced by. Then Red, that familiar strength, but he couldn't stop there, had to keep going. Gray, then Ebon-Gray. The Black Ah! That dark, sensual, deep power. It was a part of him, where he belonged. He waited here until he felt ready, just like Jaenelle had told him.

Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he began to spiral.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. He felt like the abyss, the world, the very _universe_ were spinning with him, as if the fabric of everything was beginning to unravel. Blackness flashed all around him but he couldn't see…he didn't know which was up and which was down, whether his eyes were open or closed because it was all just so _black_…

And then it all stopped. Daemon found himself just hovering, suspended immobile in the abyss. Looking up he saw the familiar level of the Black and just above that, through the gloom, he thought he could see Ebon-Gray. Then he looked down.

Below him…stretching as far as he could see was empty, dark blackness. But looking at it closer, he could see that it wasn't just that – it wasn't simply _black_, like the black of his jewels. In fact, it was blacker than black. It was Ebony.

Beyond and below him, reaching out into the abyss was endless Ebony. It swirled and writhed, something which the abyss above – his abyss – never did. It was _alive_. Daemon couldn't believe what he was seeing. _The abyss is alive_ he thought to himself. Alive, and seething and twisting and turning. Living. It was beyond what he had ever thought, what he ever could have imagined.

Then from below he thought he could hear something. It was a sound which played just outside his range of hearing; teasing him. He strained to hear, strained with every fibre in him, wanting to know what that sound was. Then it suddenly became clear.

Singing. But not just ordinary singing. This was the songs of Witch; the songs which belonged to Jaenelle and Jaenelle alone. Only once before had Jaenelle sung to him in Witchsong, but it was not something he was going to forget easily. The beauty and power of it swelled all around him, filling his ears and every part of him until he couldn't think, could only hear. The song soared and flowed, crashing like waves on a shore, then spiralling up, away, like a bird, only to fall once more. The sound held so much sorrow and pain and anguish that Daemon would have cried if he could. He didn't know the cause of the sorrow or hurt, but he knew that it was old as time, as old as the song itself, as old as Witch.

But at the same time it was comforting, accepting, embracing. The tumult of emotions which hit Daemon sent him reeling; love, hate, despair, hope, rejection, acceptance, pain, healing, suffering, kindness… The facets of Witch.

Oh Jaenelle, he thought, if only we'd known what you really are! If only you had sung these songs, shared it with us, maybe we could have understood. But you wouldn't and we didn't understand, no matter how hard we tried, we just couldn't understand. We knew you were Witch, Dreams Made Flesh. We knew that you were special but we couldn't see the extent. But now I know. You are more than we thought, more than we could every dream. And it's so beautiful.

It was. All around him, beauty soared. The abyss, Jaenelle's abyss, was simply alive with it.

But why?

Because it is what she wanted.

Daemon's whole being stiffened. _What?_

_You are here because she wanted it._

_Who are you? How do you know?  
_

_I am the Darkness. Mother Night. Ebony. Whatever you want to call me. Jaenelle had a Dream, a Dream which scared and terrified her, because it foretold that she would lose someone. She knew that she would have to act when the time came, have to use her powers, her strength._

_Use Twilight's Dawn? _(Daemon)

_If it could have chuckled, it would have. No. Her real powers: Ebony. She realised that she would have to re-awaken her powers which were lying dormant. But she was afraid and so searched for another way._

_Did she find one? _(Daemon)

_How could she? There is only one way, and she knew it._

_But why is this all so…immense? Why does it scare her so much? Can't she just use her healing powers instead? _(Daemon)

_Jaenelle was never supposed to give up her powers the way she had done. In fact, many believe that she should not have survived the unleashing of her strength on the Blood. But she did survive, thanks to the Kindred. And you, Daemon. She has relied on you so much since she rose from the healing-webs. But now fate is trying to change things. She is not supposed to wear Twilight's Dawn. She is Witch, she is Dreams Made Flesh and she should wear the Ebony – the Jewels of the Darkness. That is her fate and her destiny and she cannot – must not – hide from it._

_So fate is throwing something in her way to make her take back her power? A trick?_

_Yes. She must accept who she is – she has always found that hard. And you must help her, afterwards, so accept it. Otherwise she will simply tear herself apart._

_Who will be the victim?_(Daemon)

_That, you cannot know. Only time will tell. But you must help Jaenelle in her acceptance; otherwise she will be lost to you. The Darkness will claim her and you will not be able to reach her again._

_Surely I could just come down here to the abyss and find her?_

It almost sounded sad. _You are here because you were summoned. You may never come here again._

_But who summoned me?_

_The Darkness did. And Jaenelle. You had to see what she really is in order to help her. But afterwards the way is blocked to you. You may not come here again._

_Jaenelle knew about this? She knew that I would come here?_

_Of course she did. She wanted you to come, so you did. She helped you come here. But now, you must leave. This is not a place for Humans, even though you are who you are._

_And who is that? _(Daemon)

_Witch's other half. Her lover, her soul mate. You were born to help her Daemon, and you have done so. But you must continue your task a little longer, in order to help her._

_But-_

_No, Daemon. You have been told all you are allowed to know. You must return now to your world. And remember who Jaenelle is, Daemon. Remember, and help. Otherwise she will simply break apart. A shattered chalice, never to be whole again…_

And with that, the Presence was gone.

Daemon was exhausted. The burden of what he had to do weighed heavily on his shoulders and he felt so _weary_…he wanted to sleep, to just drift away in the darkness…

But he must not. He had to return to Jaenelle, he had to help her. He had to leave the abyss.

Slowly he began his ascent. The going was hard because Witchsong continued to play to him, to whisper in his ear and try to coax him down again. But he resisted. He had to, for Jaenelle's sake.

What seemed like an eternity later, Daemon felt the familiar psychic pull of the Black. He looked around and saw that he had risen that far, and above him was Ebon-Gray, and beyond, in the gloom, was the Gray. Gathering his strength around him, he soared upwards, away from the Black, away from what lay below in the depths of the abyss. Red rushed by him, then Sapphire and Green. And always he was going up, away from that haunting place which he should never have seen…Rose, the Tiger-Eye, the a flash of Yellow and White…

Then, finally, he burst up, out of the abyss and away from the mysteries which lay hidden there.

"Daemon? Daemon, come on, wake up…"

Daemon felt himself shaken lightly as a familiar voice spoke to him, coaxing him up out of his state of exhaustion. _So tired_…

"Come on Daemon, you're tired. If you come with me you can go to bed, and you can sleep. You just have to wake up, come on…" Her voice continued to cajole and coax, and eventually Daemon awoke enough to get himself up, and out the room; along the corridors, to his room, to his bed…He saw the bed through the fog of fatigue and just managed to make it there before he fell down in a half-faint. _So tired._

"Sleep now Daemon. Just sleep…" was all he heard before he sank into a welcome sleep.

_A/N: Well. That was all very odd. I've just re-read it and I have no idea what possessed me to write it. I know it seems really, really strange and all, but it's what popped out of my head, so I just threw it all down. I'm sorry if it seems far-fetched, or if it's drifted away from what Ms. Bishop wrote (which it most certainly has). Please **read and review** anyway, and tell me what you think. I suppose if you hate that much I could just scrap it and write something else… **R&R** people! PLEASE! Otherwise I won't update… (yes, that is a threat!) Love, a rather confused **lyradaemon**_


	6. Chapter 6: The Battle For Acceptance

**After The End** _by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 6: The Battle For Acceptance**

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to Anne Bishop**

**Warning:** There is an R-rated scene later on, so don't read if your sensibilities will be offended! It's not all fluff – there is a story-line! (There should be anyway…)

A/N: Well, I managed to get hold of a friend's computer so I can update occasionally. There's just one chapter for the moment, but more is definitely on the way! Please stick with me people and send in those reviews! Thank you to avidreader for the last one!

Daemon awoke to find the sun shining in through a crack in the curtains. By the strength of it he judged it to be mid-morning. Jaenelle was already up and about; the curtains fluttered in a gentle breeze coming in from the part-opened door. Daemon buried his face in the pillows, relishing the lingering physical and psychic scents there.

Then his memories of the previous day came flooding back.

He could remember it all; every word that Presence had said to him, every feeling he had in the abyss. All of it. Despite the surprising warmth of the winter sun, Daemon suddenly felt a chill. He tried to burrow further under the covers but that made no difference. The cold wasn't an outward, physical one; he was cold to the very marrow of his bones, and he knew no amount of heat would thaw it.

What was he going to say to Jaenelle? After all, he had discovered her true nature, and it definitely wasn't one which she embraced readily – she had concealed it from everyone all these years – so he doubted she would be happy that he had found it out now. He knew she wouldn't blame him for it because it had been her idea; but he wasn't naïve enough to think that things would be the same between them. Not for a while at least.

_Still,_ he thought, _I might as well get up._ Lying in bed all day wouldn't solve anything and he desperately wanted a shower. So thinking he hauled himself, shivering, out of bed and made his way quickly to the bathroom and soaked himself thoroughly under the steaming water. It didn't completely warm him, but it was a start.

Dressing warmly in a thick dark red jumper Jaenelle had given him, he knocked quietly on the door leading to Jaenelle's sitting room. Taking the silence from inside as an assent, he opened the door and went in.

Jaenelle was standing by the window with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring unseeing out at the white gardens. Hearing someone come in she looked up and her eyes lost their glazed look, but the unhappy, withdrawn expression remained on her face.

"Are you alright?" Daemon asked quietly.

She mentally shook herself. "I'm fine," she replied. She paused for a moment, not quite looking at him. "Daemon, about last night…"

"No," he said firmly. "I know what I saw and what I was told. I did it willingly and you have nothing to apologise for."

"But-"

He cut her off again. "I know what I saw," he repeated, "and I accept it. I know who you are now, and I still love you for it."

"But how can you? I never told you or Papa or anyone who I really was. How can you just accept that and carry on like nothing's happened?" Her eyes bored into his, making him feel as if she was staring straight into his soul.

"I don't give a damn whether you told anyone or not. The fact is, you are who you are and nothing, _nothing_ will ever change that, no matter how hard you try. You've got to accept that Jaenelle, otherwise you will never be happy."  
"I'm happy now," she replied stubbornly.

"No, you're not. You can never be happy until you accept who you really are. You might think that you are happy, but I can tell you that you're not. I have known you for a long time Jaenelle, and you have never truly been content with yourself. I can see it in your eyes every day when I look at you. Even at night, when we make love, I can see it in your eyes, feel it in your body. You are unhappy Jaenelle, and that makes me unhappy. It's not fair."

"But, damn you, you have no idea what its like to be me!" She yelled, hot tears of fury and self-pity in her eyes. "You can never know what it's like living how I do and being what I am. I hate being me and I hate everything about me. _You don't understand Daemon!_ How could you? Do you know what it's like, having to put a mask on every day to cover up who I really am? It hurts, Daemon, it hurts so much, but no one can understand." She was sobbing freely now, her self-control gone. It tore at his heart to see her like this, but he couldn't go to her. Not just yet.

"I do understand Jaenelle! I'm the only one who can. I have had to spend my whole life wearing a whole disguise, pretending not to be who I am, not using my Jewels because it would get me killed. Do _you_ know what that feels like, Jaenelle, not being allowed to use your Jewels, a part of you, for fear of being killed? I don't fear death, and I never have, because I knew it would be better than staying alive as some bastard pleasure slave. But I did stay alive, Jaenelle, and I did it for you. So how dare you tell me I don't understand what it's like, covering up who and what you are every day? _I know_. I want to help you accept what you are, just like you helped me accept that the Sadist was a part of me, and I couldn't be whole or happy without it. Do not tell me that I don't understand!" He didn't realise that he'd been shouting, or that tears were streaming down his cheeks, or that his nails were digging into his clenched fists.

Jaenelle just stood there, shocked by the anger and hurt she had caused in him. She had been so caught up in her own feelings that she hadn't once stopped to think how it would all affect Daemon. Seeing him standing there, the tears rolling down his beautiful face, his golden eyes full of hurt and sorrow and anger, she could only feel revulsion at herself for causing it. It wasn't fair. None of it was.

Daemon could see the range of emotions flickering rapidly across her face. How he wanted just to take her in his arms and hold her and tell her he loved her; that everything would be alright! He knew that she wanted him to do it too, but he still managed to restrain himself. He made himself look at her one more time.

"I can't take much more of this Jaenelle. I want to help you but you won't let me and that tears my heart out. It hurts too much."

And turning, he slowly walked out the door, closing it slowly behind him.

Through the door he could hear Jaenelle's wail of anguish.

Some time much later – it was night time in fact – Daemon woke again. He was lying fully clothed on the bed and the fire had gone out, leaving the room bitterly cold. Shivering violently, he raised himself up and using Craft eventually got the fire going again, as well as heating the blankets and sheets on the bed. Feeling a sharp draft on his face, he realised that the balcony door was still open, so he got up to close it.

At the same time there was a quiet knock and the door opened. Jaenelle stood there uncertainly, not quite raising her eyes to look at Daemon. She had obviously been crying a lot because her eyes were puffy and her cheeks glistened with her tears, but to him she still looked beautiful.

Not saying anything, he opened his arms to her. Without hesitating she ran into them and he felt her shudder as they closed around her. She clung to him and wept bitterly into his shoulder, her whole body wracked with huge sobs and trembling violently. Daemon moved her towards the bed and lay down with her on it, holding her closely to him, stroking her hair and back, and murmuring soothing nothings in her ear.

Eventually she quietened until she just lay there in his arms, hardly moving at all. An occasional sob shuddered through her, but still she said nothing. It was still cold, so Daemon pulled back the covers, used Craft to remove both their clothes then pull the covers and blankets back up. It was some time before either of them spoke.

"I'm sorry Daemon," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly.

"You've nothing to be sorry for," he said gently.

"But I never thought about what I was doing to you – I only cared about myself. It was selfish and I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," he whispered, brushing her tear-dampened hair back from her face.

"All I want is to be with you and have our baby and just live together for ever and be happy," Jaenelle said softly, brushing her hand across her slightly rounded belly.

"That's all I want too sweetheart. But you still have to accept who you are. You can't be happy until you do."

Jaenelle was silent for a moment, as if gathering her courage. "Will you help me Daemon? Will you help me accept who I am?"

Daemon looked down into her upturned face. The trust and love he saw there made his heart skip a beat. "I would do anything for you sweetheart," he whispered. "I promise."

He kissed he lightly, meaning it just as a reassuring kiss, but was surprised to find that Jaenelle wanted more. She returned his kiss fiercely, pushing her whole body against him, seeking his warmth and love and reassurance. Her fingers wound tightly in his hair and lips coaxed his open, her tongue seeking his.

Daemon was taken aback at first at the hunger and need in Jaenelle, but he soon forgot his initial hesitation and returned her embrace passionately. Rolling her over, he straddled her thighs and kissed her with enough force to bruise her lips. Jaenelle's only reaction was to growl at the back of her throat and bite his bottom lip, licking the underside of it. This served as a spark to Daemon, awakening in him an animal-like lust and hunger. Their love-making had never once lacked passion, but it was normally sweet and gentle. Every now and then it would become something more; but never like this.

Daemon's hands were rough on her body, making her moan and gasp. They never lingered long in one place, which left her aching for more. Her hands grasped at his back as she arched her body against him, feeling him hard between them. "Daemon…" she moaned as his lips sucked the silky skin of her neck, his tongue licked her ear and his fingers played with her aching nipples.

She writhed with pleasure when his hot mouth found her breasts, teasing one while his hand stroked the other. But soon the torment became too much; she needed him inside her so desperately that she ached all over.

"Daemon...please…" she gasped.

"Please what?" He breathed in her ear, flicking his tongue.

"I need you so much…"

"What was that?" He teased sensuously, his hand stroking the soft skin of her inner thigh, causing another moan to escape her parted lips.

"Ah! Daemon…please don't…I can't wait any longer," she moaned.

In reply he simply kissed her so sweetly that all Jaenelle could think about were those sensuous lips gliding over hers. The chasteness of that kiss was just about more than she could bear; she made little mewing noises in her throat, desperately needing Daemon.

After what seemed like hours, Daemon broke the kiss and looked in her eyes, smiling that devastating smile of his. Slowly he parted her thighs, revelling in the small sounds coming from her, rejoicing in the way her skin moved under his gentle touch. After a brief pause, he sheathed himself in her; then held her until she was ready.

Soon Jaenelle's world shrunk until all she could think of was Daemon and the feel of him inside her. They moved together so sweetly that when they finally came they both cried out and tears flowed freely down their cheeks

When it was over, Jaenelle was finally content just to lie in Daemon's arms. They didn't say anything because what had gone before was all that needed to be said. They both knew that things would change from here, but were reassured that the other would always be there to help and support them.

"I love you Daemon," Jaenelle whispered finally when she felt sleep coming.

"Mmm," was her only reply; Daemon had already fallen asleep, a slight smile playing on his bruised lips. Jaenelle chuckled then snuggled down further under the blankets, blessing the Darkness that it had given her Daemon.

A/N: Fluffy, yes. Pointless, probably. But I just wanted to have Jaenelle finally agree to accept who she really is – it's very important for the next part of the story (i.e. the fulfilment of the Dream). Hope you enjoyed it anyway, so please let me know what you think! Send in the reviews – and for my other fic. I still haven't got a single review from it, and as I'm rather fond of it, I'm also rather disappointed! I'll try to update again soon, I promise!


	7. Chapter 7: Dream Made Flesh

**After The End,** _by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 7 – Dream Made Flesh**

**Disclaimer: It belongs to Anne Bishop (I would like to put a claim on Daemon though…)**

**_Right, here's the next instalment – enjoy!_**

Several months had passed since that day when Daemon had ascended into the abyss and things had continued as always. Jaenelle was starting to fill out slightly, which had meant a frantic shopping trip to find dresses that actually fitted and to Daemon's dismay, he had been included in the outing. He'd left the shops unscathed, but he still shuddered whenever he went anywhere near them.

Still, Jaenelle seemed happier than ever before and Daemon wouldn't change that for the world. His words must have struck at something in her which had made her look at herself properly for the first time in years, and Daemon hoped that she was finally coming to accept that she was who she was and there was nothing she could do to change it.

However, there was one small thing which was bothering Jaenelle at the moment. The Dream that she had had all those months ago still hadn't come true as she had expected. It worried her that it had been so long; while Lucivar and Surreal reckoned that it just wasn't going to come true, Saetan disagreed – as did Daemon, privately. It seemed strange that a Dream like that – and one of Jaenelle's – should remain unfulfilled and right now, anything even slightly odd worried him because he was concerned for Jaenelle and their unborn baby. He didn't want anything to trouble her, especially something like this, and he would do anything to take that anxiety away. But he couldn't.

Lucivar had been a wonderful help in the last few weeks, comforting whenever something happened with Jaenelle and the baby – the slightest cramp had Daemon almost white with fear (something which greatly amused Lucivar) – and he would offer plenty of soothing advice to keep his worries at bay. Surreal also found the whole business very amusing, claiming that she never thought a baby could scare Daemon so much, a comment which had earned her several frosty stares.

All the same, things had been moving on pretty normally, and Daemon was grateful for it.

Jaenelle and Daemon were walking outside, revelling in the first dry day in a week; Jaenelle more so than Daemon. He had been quite content to stay inside with a book as he had a headache, but she had insisted (she was suspiciously good at it), telling him how good the fresh air would be for him etc. Although he was convinced by this argument he had given in, and so he soon found himself outside in the cold.

"Are you sure this is good for me?" Daemon asked through chattering teeth. "I'm sure it's far too cold."

"Oh Daemon, you're being pathetic. Fresh air is good for you."

"So you say," he muttered under his breath.

"Besides, it's much better than being cooped up indoors," she continued.

"That's your opinion Jaenelle. As for myself, I'm liking the cooped up idea."

The continued walking for a while, Jaenelle talking happily all the while about the baby. Suddenly Daemon stumbled and reached out to hold onto something, which happened to be Jaenelle. She gasped at the sudden weight, but held onto him all the same.

"Daemon are you alright?" She asked, worried.

Daemon was clutching his head, panting slightly. "I just felt really dizzy and sick," he said breathlessly.

"Are you OK? Do you want to go inside?" She felt his forehead. "You feel really hot; I think you need to go and lie down. Come on." She put her arm around his waist and together they walked slowly back to their room.

When they got there Jaenelle quickly helped him out of his outdoor clothes and had him lie down on the bed. She felt his forehead again, frowning.

"I'll go and make you something to drink," she said. "It'll bring you're temperature down and make you feel more comfortable. I won't be long." And after checking that he was comfortable, she left to prepare the drink.

Daemon just lay on the bed with his eyes closed. He'd been feeling more or less fine just ten minutes before, despite the headache (which, he had to admit, had been fading), so why had he suddenly felt so unwell? He was so rarely ill that it worried him. Despite the thoughts whirling inside his head, he eventually drifted off into a shallow, dream-filled sleep.

Jaenelle opened the door and tiptoed over to where Daemon lay. He seemed to be sleeping, but she shook him lightly to wake him up and give him the draught. Except he didn't stir. She tried again, a little more firmly, but still she got no reaction out of him. Frowning, she felt for his pulse and was startled to find that it was faint – too faint.

"Daemon, wake up," she tried again. "Daemon!" Searching around the room for inspiration as to what to do, she had an idea. Quick as lightning she descended into the abyss, searching for his familiar presence. He wasn't among the lighter Webs, so she sank further down.

When she got to the Black she felt him. He was there, but there was something wrong, something terribly wrong. What…?

Then it struck her. He was trapped. He had a raging fever, that much she could tell from his body outside the abyss. So he must have descended, hoping his body could recover the necessary strength from the Black to support and heal himself. But somehow – she couldn't begin to guess how – his mind or his body had cut off his connection to his Jewels and their massive strength. It was as if he had created a barrier within himself such that he was completely blocked off from his psychic reservoir and now he couldn't rise out from the abyss. Without access to his psychic abilities he had no way of escaping. He was completely trapped.

Jaenelle soared out of the abyss so quickly she felt winded when she came back to herself. Gulping in deep breaths, she threw out a psychic spear-thread: _Papa!_

_What is it Witch-child?_

_Oh Papa, please come quickly! I need you…_

_What's wrong?_

_It's Daemon! He's…I don't know, he's ill…really ill. I don't know what to do!_

_Calm down Jaenelle, stop panicking. Now, tell me what's wrong with Daemon._

_I don't know, I told you! Oh please Papa, please come and help, I think he's dying… _Jaenelle wailed. What was going to happen to Daemon?

_Ok, I'm coming. Where are you?_

_In our room. Oh hurry Papa, please! _And with that Saetan broke the connection.

What was going to happen to Daemon? What was going to happen to all of them?

There was a brief knock on the door before it flew open and Saetan, followed by Lucivar, literally tumbled in. Lucivar went straight to where his brother lay lifeless, while Saetan turned on Jaenelle.

"Now, tell me exactly what happened Jaenelle. Don't leave anything out – it could be the difference between saving and losing him."

Despite the tears which ran down her face and the sobs which wracked her body, Jaenelle recounted as best she could everything that had happened since they had woken up that morning. When she got to the part about going into the abyss, Saetan's face turned white and Lucivar looked positively terrified.

"_Trapped?_ In the abyss?" Saetan asked. "What does that mean?"

"It means he's now blocked off from the abyss. He went down there to heal his body – as he wears the Black it would take a shorter time – but something, some illness attacked his mind and he built up a barrier around it. So now he can't access the psychic channels in the abyss to get out again."

"Can't we talk to him? Get him to put his barriers down?" Lucivar asked desperately, fists clenched.

"How?" Jaenelle asked despondently. "The only way to communicate with someone when they're in the abyss is psychically – you can either descend to their level or talk to them directly from outside it. It's much easier if you're familiar or very close to that person. But as he's barricaded himself in, you can't get anything past those barriers to him. And Daemon can shut off his mind from other people better than almost everyone – there's no way you could even slip the smallest psychic spear-thread past."

"So what the hell do we do? We can't just stand around and do nothing!" Lucivar snapped.

"Well where are all your bright ideas then?" Jaenelle snarled. "I don't see you doing anything constructive."

"Children! Please, this isn't helping anyone, least of all Daemon," Saetan interrupted. "I think that we should send for Karla and Morghann and see if they can help Jaenelle at all. The more people working on this the better."

Jaenelle nodded wearily. She already felt absolutely exhausted and she hadn't done anything yet except squabble childishly with Lucivar.

She looked down at her love sleeping so peacefully there; ironic considering the battle that his body and mind were waging against each other. She felt the tears prick her eyes again, then slide unchecked down her still damp cheeks.

"Oh Daemon, my darling, what is happening? What's wrong with you? I want to help you so much but I feel so lost without you here…" she whispered.

She felt an arm slip around her shoulders and looked up through tear-blurred eyes to see Lucivar looking concernedly at her. She tried to smile, but found herself crying even harder. Lucivar wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly, letting her tears flow.

"It'll be alright Jaenelle. Daemon will get better, I know he will," he whispered into her hair.

But they both knew he was only saying that to comfort her. Daemon's life hung by a thread, and if they didn't act soon, they would lose him to the depths of the abyss forever.

_**A/N: So…what will happen next? Keep reading to find out. And send those reviews people! Please!**_


	8. Chapter 8: A One Sided Battle

**After The End,** _by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 8 – A One-Sided Battle**

**Disclaimer – It all belongs to Anne Bishop**

Lucivar felt a hand lightly shake his shoulder and a voice spoke quietly in his ear; "Wake up Lucivar." Saetan.

He shook his head, trying to clear the sleep away. "What-"

"Shh, Jaenelle is still asleep," Saetan said softly, pointing at the small figure curled up under a blanket on the bed. "I don't want to wake her. She's exhausted and upset and desperately needs to recharge her body."

Lucivar – barefooted – and his father left the room and made their way to Saetan's study. The fire had been left burning merrily in the hearth so that the room was deliciously warm. Lucivar immediately threw himself into an old, worn-out armchair right by the fire, glad for the warmth; his was cold because he was so tired, and he hadn't slept very well either. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about Daemon.

It seemed Saetan was having similar thoughts. "I'm almost at my wits end as to what to do about Daemon. We've tried just about everything those three (meaning Karla, Jaenelle and Morghann) could think of, and he hasn't improved at all. In fact, I thinking he's going backwards; Karla says he developed a virus overnight which has been slowly attacking his nervous system, and his fever has only got worse. Between those two and the fact that his mind seems disconnected from the rest of him, his whole body is one huge battleground. I don't know how much more he can take." The last words were spoken with a slight hitch in Saetan's voice; it seemed that not even the High Lord was immune to the despair and grief they were all feeling right now.

"Are you sure you've tried everything? Is there nothing left, not even one of Karla's insane ideas?" Lucivar asked doggedly. He still felt half asleep and he now had a pounding headache to add to everything. Wonderful.

Saetan nodded sombrely. "If there was anything left, it wouldn't be worth trying."

"So what do we do? Sit around and wait for him to just…die? I refuse to give up on my brother like that."

Saetan flinched at that. "He's not going to die Lucivar," he said quietly, but even he didn't fully believe it. Things weren't looking good for Daemon right now.

"How's Jaenelle doing? Is she coping?" Lucivar asked, looking concerned about his younger sister.

Saetan sighed. "I don't know, to be honest. She busied herself yesterday working with Karla and Morghann and clearing up after people. But she was absolutely shattered; she was too tired to eat, and anyway, she didn't have to time to do so. I've never seen her so drained before, mentally or physically. I think this is taking its toll worst on her. If she's not careful, she'll just crack under it all and we'll have another person to deal with. Daemon's plenty at the moment."

Lucivar thought about his brother lying in that bed so peacefully. Despite being so gravely ill, he'd still managed to look beautiful and composed, even in his extreme state of unconsciousness. Daemon always did things like that, Lucivar thought; always so perfect. _Oh Daemon, please come back to us. Jaenelle needs you so much; hell, I need you. Please don't die._

"Do you want something to eat? Mrs Beale has made some breakfast for everyone, should they want it. There's also plenty of coffee; you look as if you could do with some." Saetan eyed him as any father would a son who was looking rather the worse for wear. "Would you like me to send for some?"

"No, it's alright. I'll go along now – maybe I'll find Surreal, see how she's doing," Lucivar replied.

They stood up together and looked at each other; then Saetan strode over and pulled his son into an embrace. "I love you Lucivar. No matter what happens, I'll always love you. I hope you know that," he whispered in his ear, stroking his hair like he did when Lucivar was just a small boy.

"I know. I love you too Father. I just want Daemon back so much," he murmured in reply.

"So do we all Lucivar," Saetan sighed as he let go of his son.

Later on that day Saetan and Lucivar were taking a much needed break in Saetan's study. All morning they'd been caught up in the battle to save Daemon, and now they were both close to breaking point. Tempers had been constantly on edge and everyone cracked with tension. It also hadn't helped that Jaenelle had forgotten to shield herself, because her anguish and fear could be felt everywhere, along with a huge, unquenchable anger. Saetan was just glad the anger wasn't aimed at him.

Suddenly the door burst open and Surreal literally threw herself into the room.

"Surreal, what in Hell's name is wrong with you?" Saetan said sharply; Surreal was shaking and pale.

"It's Daemon…he's getting worse," she gasped.

"Worse? What do you mean?" Lucivar demanded.

"His body – it's more or less just shut down! He's got no defence against the virus, and his fever is almost out of control. Karla is shitting herself in there – there's nothing they can do anymore."

"Mother Night," Saetan muttered, putting a hand to his eyes. "Are they sure they can't do anything?"

"Of course they're bloody sure! Do you really think they can help him now that his mind is blocked off and his body has stopped working?" Surreal snapped.

"Don't start getting snappy at me," snarled Saetan.

"Then don't start accusing Karla and Morghann of not knowing what they're doing!"  
"I wasn't accusing anyone of anything!"

"And I don't see you helping! Hiding away in here-"

"HOW DARE YOU! That is my _son _who is dying in there! How dare you say I'm hiding away!" Saetan roared, golden eyes flashing dangerously.

Despite his rage, Surreal held her ground defiantly. "If you want to help Daemon, then go and get Jaenelle. She's his last hope," she said quietly. "She's the only one who could do anything to help him now. Otherwise he's lost."

Saetan sighed, closing his eyes. He didn't want to get Jaenelle involved with any of this – she was in such a fragile state she might not cope with the emotional burden of seeing Daemon in his present condition.

Lucivar saw the look on his father's face. "You know you have to get her. Daemon doesn't have much time left."

Saetan nodded wordlessly then left the room quietly.

"Why is he so scared of Jaenelle?" Surreal asked.

"He doesn't want to hurt her any more than he possibly can. Firstly, she's emotionally unstable, and secondly she's carrying a child. Any Craft she has to do will hurt her enormously; it hurt her just to go into the abyss to see where Daemon was. To actually use any strength will be excruciating, and it could harm the baby. Saetan doesn't want to risk that; for her sake, and for his."

"What do you mean, for his sake?"

Lucivar looked her straight in the eyes. "He doesn't think Daemon is going to make it. He wants the baby to survive as a reminder of him."

Surreal couldn't bear the look in Lucivar's eyes so she looked away. "But how will Jaenelle cope?"

"Saetan doesn't think she will."

"Then lets pray she can help Daemon," Surreal whispered.

Outside the snow fell.


	9. Chapter 9: Facing The Truth

**After The End, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 9: Facing The Truth**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything**

I HAVE SLIGHTLY ALTERED THIS (THANKS TO SUGGESTIONS BY _**INUCHAN FAN!**_)SO READ IT AGAIN!

A/N: Very sorry I haven't updated sooner. This next chapter is for everyone who's reading it, and especially for those of you who have taken to trouble to review it: **_inuchan fan, kesterel2106, qtpie1117, avidreader101, willow1484, KLMeri_** and **_GreenWarrior_**; and to **_Leah Day_ **and _**YukuYuyGal**,_ who are on my alert list. Keep reading and reviewing!

Jaenelle stood at the window, staring unseeing outside. She didn't notice the snow – quite surprising, since it was at least the middle of spring – and she didn't notice the knock at her door. She was lost in her thoughts and sorrows, wondering what would happen to Daemon, and how she would cope if he went…

The knocking continued, however, with renewed fervour. Still she ignored it. She didn't want anyone's company now; all she wanted was Daemon, and his deep voice, his rich laugh, his gentle hands, his warm mouth. She wanted him, and she couldn't have him. It was tearing her apart.

"Can I come in witch-child?" Saetan's voice said from the door. Jaenelle didn't reply. Saetan took it for a yes. "Jaenelle, sweetheart, you can't carry on like this."

"Like what?" She managed finally, her voice barely above a whisper. She'd hardly spoken to anyone in days, and her voice had become hoarse from crying so much.

"You're tearing yourself apart," Saetan said. "You lock yourself away; you try to block out what's happening. But because you're alone, all you can think about is Daemon. It's making you totally miserable."

"I know I'm making myself miserable – and that makes you unhappy. I'm sorry Papa, but I'm trying to help Daemon," she whispered.

"How?"

"I've thought through every possible thing I could do to save him. I've tried everything I know to help him. I've spoken to Lorn to ask him what I should do," she began, sounding tired.

"And?"

"He said he can't interfere with humans' business," Jaenelle explained, a frown on her forehead. "He said it's up to me to find the answer. But I've tried absolutely everything, and nothing seems to help at all." Her voice wobbled again. "I feel so_ useless_; I'm the most powerful person who has ever lived, and I can't do anything to help the one I love. Can you understand that?"

Saetan didn't even try to answer. Instead, he crossed the space between them and wrapped her in his arms, trying to block out all her hurt. He _did_ know how she felt; living with Jaenelle for so long meant that he'd had to endure all those times when she'd used so much power that she almost killed herself. Not to mention the last time – the only time – she unleashed her full Ebony strength. He'd had to go through all that suffering then. He knew how she felt.

When he felt the sobs subside slightly, he decided to venture what he'd come here to discuss. "Darling, there is something you can do."

Jaenelle's head snapped up at that. Her mesmerising sapphire eyes bore into his. He had her full attention. "What do you mean?"

Saetan quailed slightly under her stare; she didn't understand that the only person who didn't find her gaze anything other than terrifying was Daemon. Still, he had to do this; it was his son's only hope. "You know you could just use your strength to destroy what's binding Daemon in the abyss."

"You don't know what you're saying," Jaenelle whispered, trying to pull away.

Saetan held her tightly. "I do know. You could blast open his barriers and protect his mind at the same time, so you don't destroy him. You're the only one who could do it."

"You don't know what you're saying!" She said again, panic in her voice. Of all the possible reactions, Saetan wasn't expecting this. "You know what that would mean!"

"What would it mean Jaenelle?" Saetan asked mildly, pushing her to admit to what he knew she didn't want to.

She swallowed hard. "I'll have to drop the mask," she said, shaking.

"What mask?" Saetan said, puzzled. He wasn't following.

"The one which hides who I am."

"Dreams Made Flesh? But you've changed…"

"No, not really. I've changed from who I was – from the Queen of Ebon Askavi who wore Ebony. I've changed. I dreamed too, after what happened…you know." She still wouldn't speak of it. He'd have to change that. "I'm not the person I was dreamed to be. I'm not Witch now." _Now._

"But you are Witch, Jaenelle. It's your nature, who you are."

"Witch always wore the Black. I don't."  
"Anymore."

"Anymore."

Jaenelle looked at her adoptive father. All her life, ever since she could remember, she had been different. She was Witch, but no one knew; they just thought she was strange. They didn't accept her, so she refused to accept herself too. She had grown to be afraid of who she was, until she met Saetan. He had opened her eyes to the person she truly was, and had taught her not to be afraid of what she could do.

In time, she had accepted what he had told her. But she was always wary of her power, unsure of what to do with it. And then she had made the Offering to the Darkness, and had descended to her true power, to Ebony. That had taken some getting used to.

Jaenelle had never wanted that unlimited, vast strength and power at her disposal. She had tried to deny it, but Saetan and Lucivar had insisted that she needed to just accept it and get on with it.

Daemon had been the only one who understood her; a bit anyway. He knew she feared what she was, but he lived with it; he loved her and protected her, and she had thrived under his gently handling. She knew that Daemon loved her because she was Witch, so she gradually became used to it.

Still, the fear and uncertainty never quite left her. Then when she'd had to unleash her strength to save all of them, almost killing herself in the process, she turned into herself and began to dream. Began to create a new strand to the web, a strand which made her ordinary. She was still Witch – it was her nature, who she was, and she couldn't change that – ,she was still Dreams Made Flesh, but not the one she was meant to be. She was wearing a mask to hide her true self.

She knew it, as did Saetan, Lucivar and Daemon. The rest of the First Circle tried to understand, but, as much as she loved them, Jaenelle knew that they never truly would. They had simply accepted this new dimension to her, and got on with it.

She was changed though, and she knew that the change, however much she wanted it to be, was not permanent. Her Dream had confirmed that. She was not meant to wear Twilight's Dawn; it was not meant for Witch, for her. She was meant to wear Birthright Black, Ebony. Not this new, strange Jewel.

The truth of it hit her.

"I have to wear my Black again. My Ebony," she said finally, dejectedly.

"Yes."

Jaenelle pulled away from him, and this time Saetan let her go. She needed her space.

"So, do you know what you're going to do, Witch-child?" He asked her gently.

"Not really. All I know is I have to go to where my Web is and undo the strand I dreamed. I have to make myself Witch again." She sounded exhausted, and sad, but still oddly determined.

Saetan knew the Web she meant. It was the one the Arachnian Queens had been quietly spinning over millennia, the one which was Dreams Made Flesh. It was beautiful to see, but absolutely terrifying. He didn't envy her.

"When are you going then?"

"Tomorrow," Jaenelle said firmly, wiping away the tears from her cheeks. "The sooner I get there, the sooner I get my powers back. And the sooner I can have Daemon again."

Saetan looked at his daughter, the daughter of his soul, with fierce pride. She looked so small, so lost, that he couldn't believe she could do what she was about to. But he knew that Jaenelle was the only one who could do it.

"Do you think we can save Daemon now, Papa?" She asked timidly.

Saetan smiled, "I hope so." _I hope so_.

**A/N: There we are. Hope you like it; please review as always, I really appreciate it! Love, lyradaemon x**


	10. Chapter 10: Changing The Dream

**After The End, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 10: Changing the Dream**

**Disclaimer: Same as before**

Jaenelle awoke early the next morning after a restless night; she hadn't been able to get Daemon out of her head.

Making her way out of the Hall, she looked around. The snow – which had begun days ago – still fell heavily, coating everything in an ice-cold blanket. Jaenelle shivered; she wasn't wearing much, just an old jumper – to hide her growing bump, as much as anything, since the thought of her baby inevitably turned her mind back to Daemon - and some trousers she'd found in her wardrobe. Shaking off the heavy feeling settling in around her, she caught the winds and left.

She'd had her Twilight's Dawn for almost a year before she had even thought about riding the psychic winds. Daemon had worried that she wouldn't be able to use them since she didn't wear any of the thirteen coloured Jewels (while Twilight's Dawn was made up of each of them, she didn't possess any individual one), and so she couldn't catch a particular wind. But Jaenelle had already spoken to Lorn about it, and he – in his roundabout way – had reminded her of what she really was, a part of the Darkness itself, and that all she had to do was descend to that level and travel there. She still couldn't forget Daemon's wide-eyed disbelief when he had landed gracefully at the landing stage after her.

Jaenelle landed softly at the island inhabited by the Weaver of Dreams. Although she had been there many times before – most often as a child – she felt slightly apprehensive at this visit. After all, the last time she had been here was after she had risen from the healing webs. She shuddered.

Making her way slowly through the clearing, she felt the familiar tug of the psychic threads pull her towards the cave at the centre of the island. Witchlight glowed from small niches throughout the cave walls; Jaenelle slowly passed through the chambers, remembering the familiar route.

Suddenly she emerged into a cave where the light was golden and veiled; the floor stretched into the gloom and it was covered in-

Jaenelle reeled in horror. Covering the floor was a dark stain, one which filled the whole cave. Blood. _Witch's Blood. Her Blood._

Revulsion gripped her and she retched, sobbing as the memories flooded her, filling her with horrific pain and agony and despair. She fell to the ground, clutching her heart, willing the images to leave, desperately gulping for air. _And the blood shall sing to the Blood. And through the Blood._

How long she stayed there like that she couldn't say. Eventually the overwhelming ache receded slightly and she could breathe again. Raising her head slowly, she looked around. The golden light had thickened. All around her she could hear something; straining her ears, she realised what it was. Witchsong. It filled the air with it's haunting, captivating music. It was her song, her music.

Jaenelle stood up, feeling her muscles protest after being stiff for so long. Shaking off the dull sense of fear which had dogged her ever since setting foot on the island, she made her way slowly into the next cave.

Feelings of love, courage and stubborn determination swept over her as she entered. She could feel the lingering presence of kindred, long since gone; and through it she felt Ladvarian. _No human could have believed as they had believed, _she thought. Not even Daemon.

The thought of her strong, brave Warlord Prince filled her with determination. She took several more step forward, before stopping again in awe.

The tangled web that made her who she was covered one whole part of the chamber. The vastness of it simply took her breathe away. How many people dreamed that? She wondered.

_More than you can know_, a voice replied.

Jaenelle jumped. She must have spoken aloud. _I didn't realise you were here,_ she said, stuttering slightly. _I'm sorry for being so rude._

The voice laughed. _You are not rude for coming to see the Web that makes you._

Jaenelle couldn't reply to that.

The large golden spider came into view. _Hundreds of things make up this web. The wishes and longings of all those dreamers. Lifetimes of longings. Generations of wishes. All woven together to create one extraordinary woman capable of touching all the race in Kaeleer, human and kindred, giving them a way and a reason to connect with each other._

Jaenelle stared at the Arachnian Queen with awe. It still amazed her that this little – well, compared with her – spider could know so much. And understand so much too.

The spider spoke again. _Why are you here, Jaenelle?_

_I have come to ask about the web._

The Queen scuttled forward. _What do you wish to know?_

Jaenelle paused, taking a deep breathe, before continuing. _Can a dreamer un-dream?_ She asked.

_Ah,_ the spider replied. _You want to know if you can take away the strand Dreams Made Flesh dreamed herself._ Jaenelle nodded. _Why do you want to change it now? Are you not content with who you are?_

_Of course I am! I never wanted to have such vast power; I do not regret losing it. I am what I want to be._

_So why do you wish to change?_ The spider asked again.

_For Daemon,_ Jaenelle whispered. _He is dying. I cannot save him, unless I use my power. My Ebony, the Jewels meant for the Queen of Ebon Askavi, for Kaeleer's Heart. I have to wield my power again, or I will lose Daemon._

_Does the Warlord Prince mean that much to you? _The Queen asked, but not unkindly.

_Yes,_ Jaenelle replied simply, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

The spider sent out a psychic tendril of comfort and understanding. _Then come with me._

Jaenelle followed the spider until she stood before three terrifyingly familiar strands that formed a single triangle._ Father, brother, lover,_ she whispered, touching each in turn, feeling the familiar psychic scents from each of the people dearest to her heart.

Then she turned her attention to the one delicate thread which ran from the apex to the centre of the base. One fragile strand with a tiny bead of blood attached to it.

_If I break it, will I be everything I was? _Jaenelle asked, her eyes never leaving the thread.

_Yes._

Jaenelle gazed at it; that tiny, fragile strand had been the difference between who she was, and who she wanted to be. It made her the ordinary person she had so desperately sought. It changed her from the terrifying Queen she had been, into the happy, content woman she was now.

She reached out slowly to touch the drop of blood; memories of what Saetan, Lucivar and Daemon had done in the abyss flooded her and she recoiled slightly, but didn't drop her touch. For so long now she had shuttered her mind from all thought of that terrible night when the backlash of her incredible power had almost destroyed her. But she needed to accept them, needed to face up to them in order to do what she had to do next.

Taking a deep, shuddering breathe, Jaenelle gently broke the strand which separated her past from her present.

All her previous strength rushed through her, drowning her in their darkness and power. She screamed and clutched her head, desperately trying to put her shields up, instinctively wanting to shut out the horrific onslaught, but the flood rushed on, crushing any resistance. The pressure on her mind increased, creating a terrible pain that gripped her and left her blind and breathless. She cried out – to anyone, everyone, to Saetan and Lucivar and her dear, beloved Daemon – calling for their help, their comfort, needing them to take away the pain.

Then, as suddenly as it started, the onslaught on her mind stopped. The flood ceased. Her eyes cleared and her lungs unclenched themselves. She took several gulping breaths, welcoming the cool, clear air.

_Look inside yourself, _the small voice whispered to her.

Jaenelle closed her eyes and descended.

There, so familiar yet so new, lay her power, her true strength, the testament to who she really was. The ocean of terrifying Jewelled strength which made her Witch. It was back.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't know why she was crying. Was it for all that she had lost – the normalness, the ordinariness which she had craved for so long? Or was it in welcoming relief that she finally had back that part of her she had given up so long ago, which she hadn't realised she missed?

_It is truly what you wanted all along,_ the Queen said quietly. She understood; after all, she had known Jaenelle longer than almost anyone.

_I know,_ Jaenelle replied, _It's what I needed, more than anything else._

_Embrace it,_ the spider urged. _Do not resist it. You are Witch, and if Ebony Jewels are what you are meant to wear, then you must wear them. Accept who you are. You are loved because you are Witch – your Warlord Prince is proof of that. Do not deny them what they love._

Jaenelle wiped her eyes, with just a hint of a smile on her lips. _I will do what you say. Thank you, Lady. You do not know what this means to me._

_I know more than you think_, she replied with a laugh. _Now go and rescue your Prince. He needs you, and you need him. But remember – do not resist who you are. Embrace and accept it._

_Thank you, Lady,_ Jaenelle said again, still oddly formal despite the years they'd known each other. _And goodbye_.

With that, Jaenelle left.

_You were dreamed to be the protector of the Blood and all that was held dear. You denied who you were; you unleashed your strength and almost died. You dreamed to be different. And now you have taken back what you gave up. Who could have predicted this path for you, Witch? _The Arachnian Queen shook her head. _But you do it to save the one you love. And for that, the Darkness must bless you._

**A/N: There we are. Nearing the end now…**


	11. Chapter 11: I Do What I Have To Do

**After The End, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 11: I Do What I Have To Do**

**Disclaimer: Same as always**

Saetan felt Jaenelle before he saw her. That new yet so deliciously familiar dark psychic scent washed over him, rousing the Warlord Prince in him. He hadn't realised how much he missed it.

It wasn't long before the door burst open and Jaenelle practically fell into the room. She threw herself into her beloved Papa's arms and hugged him tight, relishing the contact.

"You're back, I take it," Saetan remarked with a smile.

"Uh huh," Jaenelle wordlessly replied.

"And I take it you got your power back," he continued gently, raising the issue as soon as possible.

Jaenelle lifted her head. "I did."

Saetan remained silent.

"The Arachnian Queen made me see that I am who I was made to be, and that nothing can change it," she explained. "I wanted so badly to help Daemon, and she knew that, but she also knew that I couldn't do it without my true strength. So here I am."

"Here you are indeed," Saetan replied. "Welcome back, Witch-child," he said, kissing her softly.

"Thank you Papa," she said, with a slight smile – one of the first he'd seen in a long time. "For everything. I'm sorry I made you all so miserable, it was just all so hard… but now I have a way to save Daemon. I'll be better, I promise."

"You don't need to promise anything, Jaenelle. Just having you back is thanks enough."

They stood holding each other a while longer. Finally Jaenelle sighed.

"I should go and see Daemon now. I can't afford to leave him any longer."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to protect his mind, then blast open his inner shields. It's the only way to break the grip he has on his body; he's trapped in the abyss, so I have to get him out."

"So you'll be using your Jewels."

"Of course." Jaenelle gave him a puzzled look.

"What about the baby?"  
Jaenelle started, then looked away. "There's nothing I can do."

"You're going to use your Jewels, knowing the effects it could have on your child." It wasn't a question. Besides, Saetan already knew the answer.

"I have no other choice. I want to have this baby so much, but Daemon is my first priority. He almost sacrificed his life so that I could live; I'm not going to sacrifice it again."

"Is that what Daemon would want?"

"Of course not," she whispered, still not looking at him. "Our baby has always been important to him. But I don't care what he wants this time. I love him and I want him back. I won't give up on him."

"I understand," Saetan said gently.

"Am I a bad person Papa?" She asked, suddenly sounding lost and vulnerable.

"Of course you're not. I know how much you want your baby; everyone does. But I also know how much Daemon means to you. I am not going to judge you on the choice you make, and nor will anyone else, I promise."

"Thank you," she said simply.

"I'll always be here for you, Lady."

"I know."

Jaenelle gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and fled.

----------------------------------------------------

Jaenelle opened the door slowly and peered into the room. It was still dark. Walking into the room she closed the door softly behind her, then made her way to the bed.

Daemon lay there, looking as peaceful as he always did when he slept. Except this time he wasn't thinking. Jaenelle thought it was ironic, considering the battle taking place in his body even as she stood there. But it wouldn't be a battle any longer.

She carefully placed a hand on his cool cheek, feeling the smoothness, then gently traced a line to his lips. How many times had those lips comforted her, helped her banish her fears? She didn't know.

Reluctantly pulling her hand away she took a deep breath. It was finally time to do what she had to do. She wouldn't regret it. She wouldn't.

Quick as lightning, Jaenelle descended into the abyss, feeling the increasingly persistent sharp pain as her body tried to resist it; her pregnancy had reached the stage where any psychic behaviour hurt. This was just the beginning; she knew there was more to come.

She rushed past the familiar coloured Webs until she reached the level of the Black. There, right at the bottom, lay Daemon, beautiful in repose. She smiled to herself. Soon, she would have him back.

Jaenelle slowly reached out until she brushed Daemon's mind. She pulled back instinctively, recoiling at this intrusion. But Daemon had always let his mind be open to her; that openness even extended to their lovemaking sometimes, a feeling which Jaenelle could never forget…

Shaking her head to clear the delicious thoughts, she reached out again, this time slipping a tight psychic net around his inner core. She didn't want to hurt him any more than she could help. Next she took a thin, psychic thread and tied it securely to the net she had placed. Then she attached it to the Black Web itself. If Daemon awoke in a hurry, she didn't want him to panic and dive into the abyss. With the thread attaching him to the Web, it would mean that he would have time to gather his bearings before ascending from the abyss.

Finally Jaenelle was ready. All that was left was a brief unleashing of her power, and then Daemon would be free. In theory. _Mother Night, I hope this works._

Steeling herself with a few steadying breaths, Jaenelle paused. Then she withdrew into herself, sinking to find that terrifyingly familiar reservoir of dark strength. Her Ebony. She drew a small amount out; she would kill herself if she unwittingly hurt Daemon.

Quickly Jaenelle soared upwards and slammed all that power into the shield trapping Daemon's mind. With a flash so bright it hurt her eyes, the shield shattered, breaking into thousands of tiny fragments. Jaenelle screamed as the power back lashed into her; then the pain from using her Jewels hit her.

Darkness settled in around her as her screams echoed inside her head.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Saetan felt the sudden flash of Ebony power before it was just as quickly absorbed. Moments later his study door burst open and Lucivar and Surreal hurled themselves into the room.

"Did you feel that?" Lucivar gasped.

"You could hardly miss it," Surreal snapped.

"Don't start getting pissy on me, Surreal-"

Saetan held up a hand. "Not now children. This is important."

Two pairs of eyes glared at him.

"Jaenelle just unleashed her power?"

"Yes."

"To save Daemon?"

"Yes."

"Did it work?"

Saetan looked at the two of them, both eager to hear that Daemon was finally, _finally_, alright. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Well when will we know?" Lucivar snapped crossly.

"Calm down, Lucivar, before you hurt yourself," Saetan said calmly. "They're both still down in the abyss; they'll come out soon, then-"

Suddenly the door burst open again: "Saetan – it's Jaenelle-"

Saetan leapt to his feet. "What's wrong Karla?"

"I think she got hit slightly by the backlash; she wasn't expecting it. She's in a lot of pain."

"Where's Gabrielle?" He demanded.

"She's with her right now. It's not too serious; well, not as serious as it could have been, but we'll need to look after her for a few days," Karla explained, still slightly breathless.

"Can I-"

"No. I don't want anyone going near her. Not until she's finished healing."

"But…"

"It won't take long Saetan, so stop worrying."

Saetan just glowered.

"How's Daemon?" Lucivar asked from behind him. There was a note of anxiety in his voice.

Karla turned to him, a slight smile on her face. "He's fine."

"How long until he's up and about?" Surreal asked.

"It will take him a while to recover completely. A week, maybe more. You can see him in a few days time, if you like." Karla cleared her voice, suddenly sounding business like again. "Now. I don't want _anyone_ disturbing either Jaenelle or Daemon until I say so. No sudden bursts of your Jewels, no shouting and getting pissy, and certainly no wild mood changes. Any uncomfortable feelings will agitate them. And then _I'll_ be the one getting pissy. Understand?" She glared at the three of them. And received three meek nods in return. "Good. I'll give you an update when Gabrielle and I have a better idea of what's going on." With that, she left.

"So. Do you reckon things will be the same?" Lucivar asked his father as the door closed behind Karla.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, do you reckon Daemon and Jaenelle will be the same? I mean, she _has_ just got her power back, and Daemon doesn't know. Could there be any awkwardness between them do you think?"

"Undoubtedly. Jaenelle will be worried that Daemon won't love her now that she's changed again. And Daemon will be convinced that she won't love _him_ since he was the reason she got her power back in the first place. It's inevitable."

"And?"

"It will last about two seconds before they realise that they do really love each other, and everything will be alright again," Saetan said with a grin.

Lucivar could only laugh.

**A/N: Possibly the penultimate chapter. I'm not totally happy with it, but until I get suggestions, I suppose it will have to do!**


	12. Chapter 12: Finally Together

**After The End, **_by lyradaemon_

**Chapter 12: Finaly Together**

**Disclaimer: Same as always**

**_A/N: I think this is the final chapter; its quite sad, actually. I've really enjoyed writing it, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it._**

_**Still, I'm thinking about writing a new fic which follows on from this. It'll be set just after the birth of Daemon and Jaenelle's baby. Don't get too excited though – it's still in it's early stages!**_

Jaenelle awoke to sunlight spilling into her room from the open curtains. She blinked several times to clear the sleep from her eyes, then struggled to sit up, but found that her body didn't want to respond.

"You're finally awake," a familiar voice said.

Jaenelle turned her head. "Papa?"

"I'm right here sweetheart."

She felt confused. Why was Saetan here? Then she remembered. "Daemon-"

"Shh," Saetan said, hushing her fears. "He's fine."

"Where is he?"

"In bed. Gabrielle still thinks he needs to rest. Lucivar's with him now."

"Oh. Poor Daemon."

"Poor Daemon indeed," Saetan said with a chuckle.

"Is he alright then?" Jaenelle asked, still anxious to hear about her beloved Prince.

"More or less. He's still quite tired, but he'll be back to normal in no time. He was very lucky, you know."

Jaenelle snuggled back down under the covers. "What about me? When can I get up and see Daemon?"

"Not until tomorrow. Karla and Gabrielle insist that you need your sleep; your body took a knock when your power back lashed. You've recovered remarkably well, but not completely."

"Was it that bed then?" Jaenelle asked, fearing the answer.

"You are much stronger than you used to be, so your body held together better than we expected. You were very lucky too."

They sat in silence for a while, content to be with each other. Suddenly Jaenelle sat up, fear written on her face. "Mother Night, my baby…" she gasped, a hand clutched over her stomach.

"Shh, sweetheart, it's alright. Your baby's fine. Really," he added, when she looked doubtful.

"Did you tell Daemon?"

"Of course. I didn't want him worrying."

"Can I see Lucivar today?" Jaenelle asked, craving companionship. She didn't want to be left alone.

"Do you really want to see Lucivar?" Saetan joked.

Jaenelle giggled. "Probably not. He'll just fuss over me."

"I think he's entitled to fuss, Witch-child," Saetan remarked with a smile.

"Oh bother," she said with a sigh, but she looked more cheerful.

Saetan laughed at her expression. "I'm afraid I'll have to be off now, sweetheart. Gabrielle said I could only stay to see you wake up. Her threat if I didn't was rather convincing; I rather like my male parts, and I'd rather not lose them." He leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "I'll come back soon, just to make sure Lucivar hasn't done something to you."

"Bye, Papa," Jaenelle replied, settling down into her pillows. "Will you send Lucivar over then?"

"Of course. Goodbye Jaenelle."

Jaenelle turned to gaze out the window. She still felt tired; she couldn't deny that; but compared with the times when she had used her Jewels like that before, she felt positively lively.

-------------------------

A little while later the door opened again and Jaenelle found herself caught up in a tight hug. "Mmf!" was all she could manage.

"Glad to have you back, Cat," Lucivar whispered into her hair. "I missed you."

"Nice way you have of showing it," Jaenelle grumbled when she was finally released. "I think you broke a rib."

Lucivar laughed and ruffled her hair, provoking another hard stare. "Now, ready to start being fussed over?"

"I should have listened to Papa," Jaenelle muttered under her breath.

-----------------------------

The following day both Jaenelle and Daemon woke early, almost at the same time – although they couldn't have known it. They'd both been promised that they could see each other today; they hadn't slept much.

Jaenelle was pacing her room anxiously when someone knocked on her door.

"Come in!" She called quickly.

Saetan emerged from the doorway.

"Can I see Daemon now?" She demanded.

"Of course," Saetan replied with a gentle smile. "He can't wait to see you."

Jaenelle rushed out the door, stopping long enough to give Saetan a quick kiss, then literally ran to Daemon's rooms.

She paused at the door, catching her breath and smoothing her hair back from face, then she grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

Daemon was side on to her, gazing out the window. The early morning sun seemed to create a glowing aura around him, giving him an almost unearthly quality. He looked as beautiful as she remembered.

_Does he still love me?_ She asked herself, before Daemon turned.

--------------------

_Does she still love me?_ Daemon asked himself, before the door opened. He had felt her delicious, dark psychic scent ever since he had awoken days ago in bed. He had recognized it instantly; the captivating trace which belonged to her, only to her. And now she was here.

He turned around to face her, and his breath hitched in his throat. _Mother Night, she was beautiful._ She was wearing a warm jumper and old trousers, but she still looked as beautiful as she always had.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, _"Daemon…"_

_------------------------_

"_Daemon…"_ Jaenelle whispered, tears suddenly blurring her eyes as she ran into his open arms.

When they closed around her, it felt like she was complete. She buried her face in his neck, breathing in his gorgeous scent, the one which was his, sobs hitching in her throat. "Daemon," she whispered into his neck.

-------------------

"Jaenelle," Daemon murmured, tears welling up in his eyes. It was really her; his dear, beautiful Jaenelle.

He cuddled her close, drinking in her perfume mixed with psychic scent, relishing the contact of his skin with hers. She buried her face in his neck, whispering nothings, her warm breath brushing against his skin.

Daemon rested his cheek against her golden hair, hardly believing they were together again. _Mother Night, he loved her._

Lifting her chin so that he could finally look at her, he gazed into her bottomless sapphire eyes, before catching her lips with his. They were as soft as he remembered, and he smiled when he heard the small noises she was making in her throat.

They clung to each other, kissing breathlessly, desperate for contact, not wanting to let go now that they were finally, _finally_ together.

"I missed you so much Daemon," Jaenelle gasped in between frantic kisses. "So, so much…"

"I missed you too," he breathed into her mouth, letting his tongue dance with hers. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," she whispered fiercely, her eyes holding his. "You're back, and that's all that matters."

Jaenelle's arms fastened around his neck, holding his head close to hers; Daemon let his hands wander from their place at her waist down to her hips, before slipping under her jumper. He chuckled when he heard her gasp at the contact, then he trailed up her back, delighting in the touch of her warm skin.

Jaenelle's moved her head slightly, unwittingly exposing the silky flesh of her neck; Daemon's mouth lightly fastened on it, his tongue swirling light patterns, making her shiver and gasp. "Mother Night Daemon…"

In next to no time, they had discarded several items of clothing in their furious passion. However Daemon suddenly pulled back, his hands on Jaenelle's rounded belly. "The baby…"

"He's fine," Jaenelle murmured, a smile on her lips.

"He?" Daemon asked, grinning.

Jaenelle kissed Daemon softly before replying, "Or she."

"It doesn't matter," he whispered, trailing kisses along her jaw line. "It's our baby."

More long moments passed before they finally pulled away from each other again. "Let's go outside," Jaenelle said softly, stroking Daemon's hair back from his face.

Daemon followed her outside onto the balcony, then wrapped her in his arms. The morning sun shone down on them, turning Jaenelle's hair into a golden halo.

"Are you happy now?" Daemon asked gently.

Jaenelle knew he meant her taking back her Jewels. Her answer was sure. "Yes."

Daemon gazed into her eyes before giving her one of his heart-stopping smiles. "I'm glad."

"So am I."

He raised a hand to cup her cheek. "I love you so much Jaenelle," he whispered.

Jaenelle felt tears prick her eyes again. "I love you too Daemon."

How long they stood there like that, locked in each other's arms, they didn't know. All they did know, was that they loved each other. And it was enough. Finally, it was enough.

_The End_

**That's it then. I hope you've enjoyed it; many thanks to all of you who reviewed, I really appreciate it. Please keep checking up on me and any new stories I might write!**

**Many thanks again,**

**Loads of love**

_Lyradaemon xxx_


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